Mr Messy is pushed for time

On reading a 21^st-century sequel to Mr Messy with my daughter recently, we turned the page to find a picture of Mr Messy’s garden shed. Its contents spilled messily out through the door.

‘Daddy! Daddy!’ my daughter stated, pointing to the untidy debris and nodding with conviction. ‘Yes!’ I agreed with just a touch of Mr Mischief, ‘Just like daddy’s shed.’

Later that day, I relayed the anecdote to ‘daddy’. ‘Mr Messy probably doesn’t have time to tidy his shed either,’ he retorted. He had a point. Time seems to be in short supply these days.